We're going home
by Karu-DarkAngel
Summary: Post Winter War story. Everyone has to deal with their own casualties - the Vizard and Hiyori are no exception. ShinjixHiyori Vizard-Story detailed Summary in Ch. 2
1. We're going home

**A/N:** A litte post war story and my first real attempt to write something romantic. For now it's only a short-story because I don't know whether or not to continue writing this storyline. I'd alway like suggestions for my stories, so leave a review if you like ...oh, and I'm not a native speaker so there could be some spelling mistakes.

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately I don't own Bleach. The honor lies with Kubo Tite.

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**We're going home**

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"Shinji! Can ya hear me? Shinji?" she called out, shaking his damaged body ever so slightly. Hiyori knew that her voice was trembling and that she had tears in her eyes, but she was beyond care. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the blonde man lying in the mud in front of her.

"Ouch! …don't be so noisy …my head hurts." his voice was barely audible and weaker than she had ever heard, but he was still alive.

Hiyori let go of him a little and watched him slowly opening his eyes. First he seemed a little bit dazed, but then his eyes found hers and one of his trademark smiles crept onto his face.

"Are ya cryin', Hiyori?" Shinji asked.

Before she could come up with a response he extended one of his hands and placed it on her cheek, his thumb gentle wiping off some of her tears.

"Shut up, dumbass." Hiyori eventually spat while at the same time leaning into his soothing touch.

Slowly his fingers went from her cheek into her hair, playing with one of the red ribbons that held her pigtails up – as if by a miracle they were still in place – tugging playful at the thin cloth.

His eyes found hers when he leaned down to press his lips to hers in an ever so light touch. Their first kiss. As sweet as she had thought it would be and just as bitter.

They parted and Shinji leaned his forehead carefully against hers, his warm breath caressing her skin.

"Love ya, Hiyori."

His lips twitched into the most affectionate smile she had ever seen on his face. Meanwhile the slits that were his eyes began to decrease till they finally closed and a peaceful look settled on his features.

One last hot breath grazed her face and then his body went numb.

It was over.

With stiff fingers Hiyori pulled his hand from her hair, caressing the smooth skin while doing so. She fumbled with the crimson ribbon, undoing the tie slowly. Then she tied the cloth carefully around his wrist.

She pressed one last time into his body, not bothering to wipe the flood of tears from her cheeks. It didn't matter anyway. Hiyori paused for a moment in this position before she had gained enough composure to actually look up and check on the others.

"Kensei can you carry Mashiro?" she turned her head slightly sideward to see the gray haired Vizard nodding in her direction, holding tight on Mashiros blood-covered body.

Both their wounds were fatal, as much Hiyori could see from one glance. How Kensei was standing, not even speaking about moving, was beyond her. He seemed to hold on with pure willpower and nothing else. The small frame of Mashiro in his arms was not far away from loosing conscious. Had the green haired girl not worn her mask while being stabbed, Hiyori was sure she would be dead by now.

"Rose-" she began to speak, but he cut her in before Hiyori could finish her sentence.

"Yeah." he nodded calmly, carefully holding on the lifeless body of Love that hung from his shoulders. He looked sad.

Hiyori had never seen Rose looking sad. Melancholic probably, thoughtful, concerned, but never sad. It pained her to see that look in his eyes.

Her gaze wandered to Hachi and Lisa, both of them looking at her, seemingly waiting for her to say something – or rather looking at her like they had looked at Shinji, waiting for some kind of order, someone to tell them what to do next.

When was she made leader, Hiyori asked herself.

She understood why all of them had followed Shinji. He had been the oldest among them, the one that held his position as Captain of the Gotei 13 longest. Shinji had been the one that never gave up, the one who always pushed them a step further, never trembling, never falling. He had been their tactician, their mastermind, the man who had suspected Aizen from the very beginning.

Hiyori herself was not the most intelligent among the Vizard, not the fastest and not the strongest since Kensei was yet alive. Actually the blonde was the youngest of them all and the shortest anyway. She did not look intimidating and she could by all means not talk big. All she ever did was insult people and annoy them to no end while never shutting up when she was told to do so.

That was probably the reason they turned towards her now. They believed in her to be as she always was, never giving in to anything that threatened her, standing up after every punch she got and continuing the fight like nothing had happened. They thought she could _endure_, could go on even thought her world had collapsed around her.

She really didn't know if she _could_ go on, but that she _had to_. There was simply no chance of standing still and letting live go on without her – them.

"What are we gonna do now?" Lisa asked, disturbing her thoughts.

Hiyori carefully got up from the ground, carrying Shinjis lifeless body bridal style. His head rested on her chest, strands of blonde hair tickling her bare arm. Both Shinjis long legs and arms dangled inanimately downward, but there was nothing to do against it. She had – thanks to her Vizard-strength – no problem in lifting him, but he was too tall to carry any other way and Hiyori didn't want to give his body to another person.

It had always been the other way around, she mused ironically. Shinji had carried her around while she was kicking and screaming for him to let her down. A small smile tugged at her lips when she thought about it. Shinji sure as hell would have laughed at this ludicrous situation.

She took a closer look at the Garaganta where the Shinigami vanished one by one and then at the other Vizard.

They had been absent for a long time. Now it was time go back eventually.

"**We're going home."**

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Every author lives on Reviews, so let me know what you think ^.^


	2. Finally

**A/N:** As you can see I decided to continue this story. I know where this will head for, but I'm yet unsure about how it will end, so there is still room for ideas left. The main characters will be the remaining Vizards (aka Hiyori, Lisa, Love and Hachi), a few Shinigami and probably some other hollow-shinigami-hybrids.

There will be ass kicking, boozing, a little bit of humour and some minor pairings. Also be warned of foul language and name calling.

To all of you who read Bleach 377: I'll hate Kubo forever if he is going through with this!

Here you go!

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**Finally**

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"Outta my way!"

The Shinigami starred at her dumbfounded, not moving an inch, and Hiyori was tempted to punch the idiot. Punch him _really hard_, actually. The only reason she didn't, being that she needed two arms to carry Shinji's body.

She could try kicking him, but that wouldn't turn out well since even she knew that she had lost an alarming amount of blood recently. Supporting the weight of two bodies with one leg while kicking that ugly Shinigami right into the face with the other would be problematic at least. Hiyori was not fond of the idea to loose conscious in the near future.

That way her only option left was to scowl at the dumbass and repeat her words.

"Outta. My. Way. Idiot." she growled.

The soul reaper slowly seemed to realize, who – or rather _what_ – exactly was standing in front of him. Hiyori watched seemingly satisfied how his face suddenly turned into an anxious gaze and his eyes seemed to pop out of this head. With a hasty leap he jumped out of her way, bumping into a bunch of other Shinigami.

Hiyori didn't waste another glance at the crowd. She had other things on her mind.

She wanted to get away from the mass of Shinigami, away from this crowded place with far too many people for her liking. That many people in one spot always made her feel exposed, even vulnerable. The blonde didn't like this feeling one bit …it strangely reminded her of _that_ night. The scar on her shoulder itched at the thought.

Apparently Lisa sensed her discomfort, because suddenly the other Vizard was at her left, walking straight through the assembled Shinigami without any outer sign of distress. Hiyori thanked her inwardly.

They made their way through the group of Shinigami in silence. None of them spoke a word – probably because none of them knew what to say. Here they where, in a world they had been banished from a hundred years ago. This had been their dream; deep in their minds they always had wanted to come back, to be once again in this world that was _theirs_. No one had ever dared to speak it out loud, but they all had known.

Now they were there, at the place of their dreams. Their wish had come true, but they had paid a gruesome price. A price none of them would have paid if they had known. Shinji and Love had never been back in Soul Society. Their chance to see their home on last time had been taken from them and Kensei and Mashiro would only be granted a glance of how their future could have been.

Hiyori noticed only subconscious that the Shinigami had fallen silent. They watched the small group of former Shinigami walk through their ranks without moving, without turning their eyes away.

The black dressed men and women with sad looking eyes reminded the blonde oddly of a funeral. A second later Hiyori suppressed a hysterical laughter, when she realized that they actually _were_ a funeral procession. A bloody, dirty and beaten funeral procession on the way home from Last Judgment.

Lisa's school uniform was complete, bloody mess and her hair was loosening from her braid and sticking out from her head in a black-crimson mess. Hiyori herself wasn't looking any better, either. The jacket of her tracksuit was cut in several places; her white T-shirt was covered in – mostly Shinji's – blood and her trousers looked like a mixture of both of the former. That only one of her pigtails was still in place nearly didn't stand out compared to this.

Shinji, who she was still tightly holding on, looked nearly like he was asleep, his head resting at her shoulder and the mop of his hair blocking the view to his eyes. He looked somewhat peaceful.

Behind them was Kensei, still clinging to Mashiro as if nothing could ever separate them again. He had bruises and gashes all over his body, the worst of them hidden behind Mashiro's body. Mashiro… Hiyori was incapable to give her broken figure more than a short glance. _She shouldn't be alive… God, let her die. She shouldn't have to go through this… not anymore._

Than there was Rose. Rose who seemed nearly unharmed from the outside but still had that sad look in his eyes which Hiyori couldn't bear. Third Divisions insignia was Mariagold and never until today had the blonde Vizard understood how this suited the blonde man. Love's body hung from his shoulders like he simply was too tired to walk by himself. Only the burned spots on his clothing and the broken glasses gave evidence about the truth state of his health.

The last one was Hachi, suit still in place, without the tiniest blood spatter on any part of his body. No one would have thought he had been in a war if not for the piece of his right arm missing, still surrounded by the Kido that stopped the wound from bleeding. It didn't stop the pain. She knew.

They left the Shinigami behind; climbing up to the top of the hill at whose root the Garaganta had been placed.

Hiyori stopped only a few feet away from the edge. She stood motionless, sensing the other Vizard one after another joining her at the peak of the hill.

Below them lay the thing all of them had sought too see for such a long time.

The apparently endless districts of Rukonagi spread across the landscape and behind them, in the heart of Soul Society, the first rays of the rising sun colored the white Sekkiseki-Walls of Seireitei in a warm, orange light.

This was the place were she had grown up and had lived for such a long, peaceful time. Behind the walls of Seireitei, where she attended the Shinigami Academy and made a lot of friends; where she graduated as a Soul Reaper and at last had become a Lieutenant of the Gotei 13. Deep down in one the most dangerous districts of Rukonagi, where she had started her live in Soul Society …where she had first met Shinji, who had changed her life.

There were so many emotions in her head; sadness, guilt, fear, hope, happiness… but the prevailing one was relief.

Finally.

"We're home, Shinji." she whispered.


End file.
